


Strangeness and Charm

by daltoned



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-07 22:59:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/436388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daltoned/pseuds/daltoned
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p> [Hogwarts AU] Kurt Hummel never wanted to be a Slytherin--especially not when it landed him in the same house as Sebastian Smythe. </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Stir six times, counter-clockwise..." Kurt muttered to himself as he scanned through the instructions in his tattered potions textbook. "Add diced valerian root and—" something flew past his face and landed with a thick-sounding _splat_ in his cauldron. "What the everliving fuck was _that_?"   
  
"Language, Mr. Hummel," Professor Schuester said idly as he trailed past his workbench. "Please refrain from swearing in the classroom."  
  
At that moment, Kurt's potion suddenly decided to take the opportunity to blow up in his face, splattering him and various other classmates who had had the misfortune to have their surnames come near Kurt's in the alphabet in thick, putrid sludge.   
  
Professor Schuester wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe. "Five points from Slytherin," he said, sounding tired. "Help him clean up here will you, Mr. Smythe?"  
  
Sebastian Smythe gave him a lazy smile. "Of course, Professor." He sauntered out from behind his own desk—miraculously slime-free, Kurt noted—and grabbed the bucket and rags from where they were stored next to the cupboard. He tossed one to Kurt, smirking slightly as Kurt fumbled to catch it. "Surely you must be on the Slytherin Quidditch team, with moves like that, Hummel."  
  
"Sod off, Smythe." Kurt dropped the sodden rag onto his desk, drawing out his wand and performing a levitating charm on the cauldron. "I don't need your help."  
  
"Teacher asked me to, babe." Sebastian spread his hands, face the picture of innocent regret. "Now bare those pretty forearms of yours and let's get cracking."   
  
Kurt gritted his teeth. "Fine. You do the floor; I'll do the bench."   
  
"You want me to get down on my hands and knees?" Sebastian smirked. "My, you _are_ a naughty boy, aren't you?"  
  
"Shut your mouth before I hex you into next week," Kurt said, injecting as much venom into his voice as he could manage. The effect probably sounded closer to a cheesy Disney villain, but he didn't much care as long as it shut Sebastian up for a few blessed seconds.  
  
And a few blessed seconds was all he got, before Sebastian said, "You don't need excuses to check out my arse, you know."  
  
Kurt closed his eyes and prayed fervently to a God he didn’t believe in. "I told you, Smythe. I wouldn't be interested in you if you were the last other person alive on the planet."  
  
Sebastian just chuckled delightedly, sitting back on his heels and looking at Kurt with a wicked grin on his face. "You'd rather be a necrophiliac than fuck me, then?"  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes. "You are really quite immature, you know that?"   
  
"It's what makes me so loveable." Sebastian flicked his rag at Kurt's knees, leaving a wet stain. "Don't deny it."  
  
Kurt sneered at him, curling his lip and giving him his best snooty glare. "It's hardly denying it if there's nothing to deny."   
  
Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest in mock-pain. Kurt noticed with pleasure that he left a grimy smear on his crisp white shirt. "You wound me, Kurt. You really do."  
  
"You don't get to call me Kurt. Only my friends call me Kurt."  
  
Sebastian gasped, smirking. "Are you insinuating that we are anything less than BFFs for life?"  
  
Kurt quirked an eyebrow before he could help it. "We are most certainly not 'BFFs', as you put it. Now hurry up before the bell goes—I don't want to be late to Arithmancy."  
  
"So smart," Sebastian sighed, wringing out his cloth and soaking it once more—only to toss it at Kurt.  
  
Kurt caught it and glared at Sebastian. "What are you, twelve?"  
  
"Come on, Hummel, don't be such a stick-in-the-mud. Might as well have a little fun." Sebastian waggled his eyebrows, a wicked glint in his grey eyes.   
  
Kurt wiped off the last few inches of the desk and dropped the cloth in the bucket. It landed with a satisfying _plop_. "Are you finished yet?"  
  
Sebastian stood up—as always, Kurt privately revelled in the fact that he was a good inch taller than Sebastian—and wiped his hands on his robe. His green-and-silver striped tie was loose, Kurt noticed. His fingers itched with the urge to straighten it—and goddamn it, why couldn't Sebastian just dress _tidily_ for once—but he stuck them in his pockets instead.   
  
"I was wondering," Sebastian asked, his tone casual, "if you possibly wanted some tutoring in Potions. I mean," he gestured at the workbench, "it looks like you could do with it."  
  
Kurt blinked at him, insulted. He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't need help from _you_ , thanks. Last time I checked you weren't any great shakes at Potions either."  
  
Sebastian’s eyes hardened, his voice becoming decidedly cool as he said, "At least I don't blow mine up," before turning on his heel and marching back to his own desk, where he collected his things with a wave of his wand  
  
Kurt gaped after him. 

*

  
  
"I'm like ninety-five-percent certain that Brittany Pierce is going to ask me out," Rachel said at dinner, dropping down into the seat next to Kurt. Her face was flushed with excitement and her eyes were sparkling.   
  
Kurt frowned. "Who's she? I thought it was Quinn Fabray you were interested in?"  
  
"Hufflepuff, in my Charms class—she's the cutest thing ever, I swear. And Quinn got herself a boyfriend, so." Rachel helped herself to his mashed potatoes, not bothering to load up her own plate. He slapped her fork away and she pouted at him. "What? I'm hungry."  
  
"Get your own," Kurt said, pouring her some pumpkin juice. "This is mine. I deserve it—I just had to suffer through an entire Potions class with Sebastian."  
  
Rachel snorted. "I still think you two should just get together and get it over and done with."  
  
Kurt gave her his best poisonous look. "You're such a traitor," he accused, stabbing at his cabbage. "I support you through everything, and you suggest I get together with _Sebastian_ , of all people." His fork screeched on his plate as he speared a particularly malevolent-looking cabbage leaf. "He is _repulsive_. He _repulses_ me. He's _repulsive._ "  
  
"So you've said," Rachel said dryly, stealing one of his sausages. "If he annoys you so much, why do you talk to him?"  
  
"I _don't_ ," Kurt insisted. "He talks to _me_. He won't leave me alone. He offered to give me Potions tutoring, for Merlin's sake."  
  
"Sounds like you've got yourself a creepy obsessive stalker," Rachel said brightly.   
  
"Yay for me." Kurt prodded at the cabbage again. It lay there, limp and unappetising on his plate. "You know what? I'm just going to go to the library."  
  
"I'll meet up with you later, then." Rachel leaned back to check the Hufflepuff table. "Should I go and say hi, do you think? Or would that be weird?"  
  
Kurt shrugged as he stood up. "You'll never know if you don't try," he said, patting her on the shoulder before wandering off. 

*

  
  
"Hey, Kurt!"  
  
Kurt very pointedly didn't look up from his Transfiguration essay as he said, "I thought I asked you not to call me that?"  
  
Sebastian shrugged as he flopped into the seat next to Kurt. "If you say so, babe."   
  
Kurt resisted the urge to smack him over the head with one of the heavier books in the stack next to him, if only for the book's sake. "Unless you've got something useful to say, then sod off, will you?"  
  
Sebastian just chuckled. "I was wondering if you could help me with my Transfiguration essay?" he said, reaching into his bag and drawing out his own scroll. "I was wondering if you knew anything about Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration."  
  
Kurt frowned, setting aside his quill—carefully, so as to not drip ink on the table. "Why are you asking me about it? I'm not even in your Transfigurations class."  
  
Sebastian smirked—Kurt fucking hated that smirk—and unrolled his own essay. "But you're the best at Transfiguration, and you're all brainy." He reached out and rapped on the side of Kurt's head before Kurt could smack his hand away.   
  
Kurt gave him a death glare.  
  
"I might as well learn from the best," Sebastian said, shrugging. He reached out and stole Kurt's quill, dipping it in the inkwell before turning to Kurt with an expectant look. "Well?"  
  
"Well what?" Kurt leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. "What makes you think I'm going to help you?"  
  
"You love me," Sebastian said confidently. "Now, you're meant to be helping me, not gawping at me like a stupefied grindylow." He flicked his— _Kurt's_ —quill and Kurt winced as a couple of inksplots appeared on the parchment.   
  
He resisted the urge to perform a quick _scourgify_ and instead tipped his chair onto its back legs. "I don't love you. I hate you," he said, speaking as if to a very slow, and very emotionally-stunted three-year-old. "Therefore, there is very little chance that I'm going to help you write your Tranfiguration essay."  
  
Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "But there's not _no_ chance, is there?"  
  
"Double negative."   
  
"What?"  
  
"You just used a double negative. You should have said 'there is a chance', not 'there's not no chance'." Kurt felt his cheeks flush. "Um. Not that it really matters. My point was that I'm not going to write your essay for you. Go find somebody else to cheat off."  
  
Sebastian looked insulted. "I'm not _cheating_ ," he said. "It's more like a study group."  
  
"A study group with two people."   
  
"Tutoring then, if you like." He shrugged. "You help me with Transfiguration; I'll help you with Potions. It's a fair deal."  
  
Kurt tugged Sebastian’s parchment towards him, scanning down it even as he spoke, "I don't need help with Potions."  
  
Sebastian grinned and propped his chin up on his hand. "Okay. If you say so."  
  
"I say so. And I'm not helping you cheat on this essay, by the way. I just can't allow an essay this terrible to go uncorrected."  
  
"It's not terrible," Sebastian said, a crease appearing between his eyes and his mouth pulling down at the corners. "It's imaginative."  
  
"It's terrible," Kurt corrected, "and written in bright green ink." He held out his hand for his quill, wrinkling his nose slightly when Sebastian managed to drip even more ink on the table. "Did you even read page sixty-one of _Elemental Transfiguration_?"   
  
Sebastian raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips. Kurt's eyes flicked down to them, looking away in haste as soon as he realised what he was doing, heat prickling the back of his neck.   
  
"I'm sure I did, but refresh my memory, will you?" Sebastian sounded lazily amused, Kurt thought, as if was merely toying with Kurt—a snake with a baby vole.   
  
Kurt had to stifle a groan. "I can't believe this. How haven't you been kicked out of Transfiguration class yet?"  
  
"I have a very charming personality," Sebastian said, smile smug. "It's surprisingly handy."  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes. "Okay," he said, dipping his quill in the inkwell and explaining as he wrote, "Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration is to do with how magic can create or destroy matter. There are five principle exceptions to this law—food and love being the two most important."  
  
"But food is created every day." Sebastian leaned back in his chair, flipping a galleon between his fingers. Kurt had to resist the urge to knock it out of his hands—such a flamboyant display of wealth was hardly needed; everybody knew that Sebastian had money. "It appears on our plates every meal time."  
  
Kurt shook his head. "The house-elves make the food and it's summoned to the Great Hall," he said. "Food can be moved from one place to another by magic and can be transfigured into different food, but it can't be created out of thin air."  
  
"What about love potions? They create love." Sebastian tipped his head to one side and looked at Kurt with darkened green eyes, his expression unreadable.  
  
Kurt shifted uncomfortably in his chair, hyper-aware that he was doing something he swore to never do in any shape or form—helping Sebastian Smythe. "It's not real love." He pulled _Elemental Transfiguration_ towards him and flipped through it to page sixty-one, running a finger down the page until he got to the part on love charms and potions. "Here, it says that the semblance of love can be created through various love charms, potions and, on occasion, the Imperius Curse, but it is never true love despite what the victim might believe—it is merely an obsessive, lustful infatuation." He pushed the book towards Sebastian. "Here; you read it for yourself." He smirked, and added, "And maybe you'll actually learn something for once."  
  
"I learn plenty of things," Sebastian said, giving the paragraph a cursory glance, "just maybe not the sort of things you'd want to hear about."  
  
Kurt snorted derisively. "What, different ways to cheat first years out of their pocket money? I'm happy with my own, guilty-free, penniless state, thanks."  
  
"I don't _cheat_ them out of their pocket money," Sebastian said, sounding like he couldn't really quite dredge up the energy to be indignant about it. "It's their own stupid fault for agreeing to play chess with me." He waved a lazy hand. "They were hardly going to be able to do anything with it, anyway. Why their parents sent them to school with it burning a hole in their pockets I'll never know."  
  
Kurt tapped the book in front of Sebastian. "Back on track. Read me the next paragraph."  
  
Sebastian’s eyebrows leapt up his face. "Oh, I do like it when you get bossy, babe."   
  
"Read it. And call me _babe_ one more time and I'll stick your wand where the sun doesn't shine."  
  
"Like it rough, do you?" Sebastian sounded delighted; he merely smirked when Kurt gave him his best 'I'll-hex-you-within-an-inch-of-your-life-unless-you-do-as-I-say' glare. "Fine, fine. Why I have to read this when you already know it, I haven't the slightest—"  
  
"Do you want my help or not?" Kurt's left eye twitched, involuntarily.   
  
"If you hadn't interrupted me, I was coming to it—"  
  
"And if you didn't keep screwing around then maybe this would be finished already so I could get back to my own—"  
  
"I'm not screwing around!" Sebastian’s back was stiff, his eyes black ice. "I should have known better than to ask _you_ for help, Hummel—I might as well have just read the _entire set reading list—_ "  
  
"Maybe you should have done—then I wouldn't be wasting my time trying to teach something to an _imbecile_ who simply can't be arsed with actually trying to do something for once in his goddamned life because he's too rat-arse lazy to actually put what little brainpower he has to achieving something other than _fraud_!"   
  
Silence.  
  
Kurt's words rang impossibly loud in the domed space; around them, students were staring at them with wide eyes. A tiny Hufflepuff first year looked on the verge of tears and the sixth-year librarian was red in the face and possibly about to explode.  
  
"Well, then," Sebastian said, in a voice that was entirely too controlled and calm, "if that's what you think, then we're clearly wasting our time here." He ripped his parchment out of Kurt's grip, stuffing it into his bag and stalking off.  
  
Kurt sat there, frozen to his chair. When he finally managed to look down, his hand had smeared ink all over the table and on his previously-clean cuff.   
  
He got to his feet, not bothering to stack the books neatly as he usually did, swept his things into his bag before leaving the library, carefully avoiding the eyes of the rest of the students. 

*

  
  
"I heard that you and Sebastian had a fight in the library yesterday," Rachel said casually as she tossed her bag onto the table next to Kurt at breakfast. She swung her legs over the bench and sat down, helping herself to his toast.  
  
"Yeah, well, it's the talk of the school, apparently." Kurt pushed a bowl of fruit salad towards her and ignored her squawk of protest as he stole his toast back.  
  
"I was eating that." She gave the fruit salad a baleful glare. "And I'm not eating salad for breakfast. Pass me the bacon, will you?"  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes. "I can’t believe you actually _like_ the vegan version of bacon," he said her, even as he passed the platter of bacon over.  
  
Rachel shrugged. "At least I’m not killing poor defenceless animals just to satiate my own urges," she said as she forked crispy rashers onto her plate and doused them liberally in brown sauce.  
  
Kurt wrinkled his nose. "That's disgusting, you know that?"  
  
"So's the fact that I had to hear about this argument of yours through my potential girlfriend." She shook her head, finishing her mouthful before continuing, "I mean, she's not even in the same House. Can you imagine how embarrassing it was when I didn't know about this event in my best friend's love-life?"  
  
"I don't think it counts as a love life when both people involved hate each other's guts," Kurt said dryly, refreshing his pumpkin juice. "Juice?"  
  
Rachel shook her head, chestnut curls bouncing everywhere as she did so. "My point is, why didn't you tell me about what happened with Sebastian?"  
  
She fixed him with an intent brown-eyed stare.  
  
Kurt took a sip of his pumpkin juice, buying time.  
  
Rachel was still staring at him. Damn it.  
  
"It just didn't occur to me," he said finally. It wasn't all that far from the truth; when he'd returned to the Slytherin common room he'd had little in mind other than going to bed and pretending Sebastian didn't exist. Needless to say, that hadn't worked all that well; he'd spent the entirety of the night replaying the argument in his head and becoming gradually more convinced that Sebastian was an even bigger dick than he had thought originally.  
  
"Sebastian isn't a dick," Rachel said.  
  
Kurt choked on his pumpkin juice. "Don't _do_ that," he complaining, wiping his chin with a napkin.  
  
"Do what?" Rachel widened her eyes innocently.  
  
Kurt waved a hand in the air, making a face. "Know exactly what I'm thinking," he said, when her expression remained blank. "It's creepy."  
  
Rachel shrugged and patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry, I won't tell anyone about all the filthy things you'd love to do to a certain prefect."  
  
"I don't think about that sort of thing!" Kurt protested in a heated tone. "And certainly not about Sebastian. He—"  
  
"Repulses you, yes, I know." Rachel sighed and propped her chin up on her hand, gazing off into the distance. "The amazing sex you two would have..."  
  
Kurt felt mildly nauseous at the very thought of it. "Please stop," he groaned, sinking down in his seat and wishing he could simply Obliviate both himself and Rachel and forget that they ever had this conversation. "I think I'm going to puke."  
  
Rachel glared at him. "Ruin my fantasies, why don't you."  
  
"You don't even _like_ guys," Kurt said exasperatedly, "where do you get off on this?" He slapped a hand over her mouth before she could answer. "Actually, no, don't answer that. I've decided that I don't want to know."  
  
"Your loss." She shrugged.  
  
Kurt nodded and got to his feet, hefting his bag over his shoulder. "I'm going to head off to go pick up a book from the library, 'kay?" He patted her on the head. "See you in Charms."  
  
"Sure thing." Rachel was already decanting Kurt's left-over food onto her own plate, drowning the lot in brown sauce before digging in with relish.  
  
Kurt was walking out of the Great Hall when he collided with Sebastian. Wind-milling his arms as he lost his balance, he came crashing down onto the hard stone floor, his bag splitting open and all of his books and papers falling out. He heard a sickening crunch as he landed on something round and hard; when he sat up, his ink pot was smashed into bits, black ink leaking out across the flagstones and staining his hands and clothes.  
  
Sebastian helped him up with wide green eyes. "Sorry." He toed at Kurt's broken ink pot, eyebrows raised and biting down on his full lower lip. "I don't think that can be resuscitated, I'm afraid. I can lend you one of mine, if you like—"  
  
"I don't need your help, thanks," Kurt said. He could hear the coolness in his own voice; the dangerous creaking of thin ice just before it cracks open and sends the unsuspecting skater into freezing black depths.   
  
Sebastian frowned. He obviously didn't hear the frost in Kurt's tone—or did and was simply ignoring it—because he knelt down to start gathering up Kurt's books. "I'll just get these for you, then."   
  
"I think you've done enough, thank you very much." Kurt carefully didn't touch Sebastian as he crouched down and examined the seam of his bag.   
  
"Can you fix it?"  
  
Kurt gave him a desultory stare. "Of course I can." He took out his wand from his pocket, careful not to smudge ink along the polished beech wood, and pointed it at the split seam. "Reparo."   
  
The stitching wriggled back into position, lacing the two parts of the bag together once more. Kurt slung it over his shoulder and took the books and papers from Sebastian, groaning internally when he saw the blotchy ink stains spreading across the pages like arterial blood. "Thank you," he said reluctantly, giving Sebastian a nod and starting to turn away.  
  
"Wait, Kurt—"  
  
Kurt turned back to Sebastian and raised what he assumed to be a sufficiently cool eyebrow. "What?"  
  
Sebastian bit down on his lower lip again, worrying it between his teeth. "I'm sorry for walking into you," he said, after a long pause in which Kurt nearly walked away, manners be damned. "I wasn't looking where I was going and that was my fault."  
  
"Too right it was." Kurt glared at him. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to go back to the dungeons to get changed."   
  
And with that, he turned on his heel—careful not to slip in the pool of ink that he had pointedly left Sebastian to clear up—and marched off.

*

  
  
"Hey, Hummel."  
  
Kurt turned around, raising an eyebrow coolly as he looked down his nose at the three sixth-year boys standing at the bottom of the stairs. "Yes?"   
  
"We don’t like fags in our House, you know,” Dave Karofsky said, leering and folding his bulky arms across his chest. His Slytherin tie hung loose around his neck. Behind him, his two friends glowered at Kurt and flexed their biceps, their shaved heads gleaming slightly in the light from the gas-lamps.   
  
"Very nice for you, I’m sure," Kurt said, trying to keep his voice mild even as his pulse started to jump at the base of his throat. "Now, if you don't mind, I need to go get changed." He gestured to his front with ink-stained hands, forcing a wry tone into his voice as he continued, "Had a bit of an accident with an ink bottle."  
  
The boy that had spoken looked slightly wrong-footed, but as Kurt turned on his heel and continued up the stairs he found his tongue again and called, "Where do you think you're going? We're not finished with you quite yet."  
  
Kurt's shoulders stiffened. He turned around again—slowly, this time—and slipped a hand inside his robes to grip the smooth wood of his wand. "I know a particularly good Bat-Bogey Hex, just so you know," he said, adopting a conversational tone. "I'm sure the teachers will be sympathetic when I tell them that it was in self-defence."  
  
"You won't be telling the teachers anything," one of the other two goons said, cracking a wide smile that sent shivers down Kurt’s spine.   
  
Kurt swallowed. "Physical fighting isn't allowed at Hogwarts." His voice sounded weak to his own ears. "You'll get in trouble."  
  
"We'll 'get in trouble', will we?" the shortest boy mocked, cocking his head on one side and narrowing his eyes at Kurt. "Like Karofsky said, you won't be telling the teachers anything."  
  
Kurt's wand felt slippery in his hand. He readjusted his grip on it, wondering if he should simply hurl a hex and run. "And how are you going to stop me?"   
  
Karofsky leered. "Your little friend is very pretty," he said, malicious delight inherent in his voice. "It'd be a shame to ruin that pretty face of hers."   
  
Kurt's stomach clenched, his breath catching in his throat and his mouth suddenly as dry as if he had been licking sandpaper. "If you hurt her I'll—"  
  
"You'll what?" the third goon, who had until then remained silent. Kurt recognised him as Rick Nelson, one of the Slytherin beaters.   
  
Kurt opened his mouth to reply with a suitably cutting retort, but found himself coming up short. He closed his mouth again.   
  
Azimio smirked, taking the steps two at a time until he came to stand almost nose-to-nose with Kurt. "Exactly. _Nothing._ "  
  
Kurt barely had time to register that Azimio was moving before a fist struck him right in the face, snapping his head to one side; his vertebrae creaked and his cheek throbbed. He could taste blood where he'd bitten the inside of his cheek; an iron tang that caught at the back of his throat and made him want to gag.   
  
"What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing?" a familiar voice demanded from behind Kurt. A hand landed on his shoulder, broad fingers digging in just this side of painful. "Get away from him before I hex you into next week."  
  
Kurt gritted his teeth. "I don't need your _protection_ , Sebastian," he said shortly. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."  
  
"Of course you are, babe," Sebastian said, tone deceptively lazy. "That would explain the lovely shiner you're going to have there in a few days."  
  
Kurt raised a hand to it self-consciously, wincing as he pressed a little too hard. "It was a misunderstanding."  
  
Sebastian looked mildly irritated. "You really are the stubbornest bastard I've ever had the misfortune to meet, I hope you realise."  
  
"Glad to be of help," Kurt said, glaring. He stowed his wand back inside his robes and narrowed his eyes at Azimio and his friends.   
  
Sebastian turned to them too. "Fuck off," he said—quite eloquently, Kurt thought.   
  
Azimio took a step forward, seeming as if he was going to attempt to hit Sebastian too, but Sebastian planted a hand in the middle of Azimio's chest and, with a slight shove, sent Azimio sprawling head over heels down the stairs. Kurt winced at the sick-sounding thud that Azimio's head made on impact with the stone wall at the bottom.   
  
"Fuck off," Sebastian repeated, "and this time for real." He turned to Kurt and raised his eyebrows questioningly.  
  
"What?" Kurt asked, defensive.   
  
Sebastian’s lips twitched in amusement. "You've got ink all over you," he said, by way of explanation.  
  
"I'd noticed." Kurt straightened his robes, grimacing at a rip in his sleeve. "Be seeing you, then."  
  
Sebastian reached out and grabbed his shoulder again, although his grip was gentler this time around. "Where do you think you're going?"  
  
Kurt held up his hands, which were no less inkstained than they had been when Sebastian had commented on it. "To clean up, surprisingly enough."   
  
Sebastian frowned, letting go of Kurt's shoulder but taking a step closer and peering at his cheek instead. "You need to get some ice on that," he said, his voice surprisingly soft and intimate. "You might manage to stop the worst of the bruising." He grinned, then, and added, "Don't want to spoil that pretty face of yours."  
  
Kurt rolled his eyes and stepped away, picking up his bag from where it had fallen on the floor when Azimio had pushed him over. "Shut up. Why were you following me, anyway?"  
  
Sebastian’s eyebrows leapt up, his forehead crinkling in surprise. "You think I was following you?"  
  
"And you weren't?" Kurt challenged, folding his arms across his chest.   
  
"No." Sebastian frowned. "If I had been, do you really think that I would have left it that late to intervene?"  
  
Anger stirred in Kurt's gut. "I didn't need you to intervene in the first place," he said waspishly, giving Sebastian a poisonous glare. "Like I said, I had it all under control."  
  
Sebastian took a step forward again, backing Kurt up against the wall. The light from the gas lamps lit his face harshly and highlighted his hair like a furious halo. He jabbed a finger at Kurt's chest, his voice low and fierce as he said, "When will you bloody learn to accept help when people offer it? Would it _kill_ you to say thank you once in a while?"  
  
Kurt tried to pull away, but Sebastian grabbed his shoulders to keep him in place, fingers digging bruises into Kurt's flesh. Kurt swallowed, instinctively pressing himself back against the wall. Sebastian’s face was mere inches from his own, his chest heaving with what seemed to be pent-up frustration as he pushed forward, even closer to Kurt.  
  
"Probably," he said, for want of something better to say, distracted by the tight grip Sebastian had on his biceps.  
  
Sebastian made a low growling sound in the back of his throat, his expression conflicted. He flexed his fingers around Kurt's arms, tightening his grip even as he pulled away slightly. His eyes were dark in the half-light, his cheekbones gilded with liquid fire and his lips slightly parted.  
  
Kurt opened his mouth to say something, but then Sebastian was kissing him, hot and heavy, pressed up against Kurt and his large hands curled around Kurt's biceps as he hungrily pressed his mouth to Kurt's and—  
  
Kurt wrenched himself away, mind reeling. He stared at Sebastian in shock. "What the _fuck_?" he demanded, hand flying to his tingling lips. "What the _actual fuck_ was _that_?"   
  
Sebastian looked shell-shocked—his mouth hung open slightly, his cheeks were flushed and his hair was mussed. He shook his head, holding his hands up in a defensive motion. "I...I don't know," he said, wide-eyed. "Sorry."  
  
"I can't believe you just did that," Kurt said, crossing his arms and glaring at Sebastian. "I thought you were better than that. I don't know why, seeing as you repulse me in every other matter and I wouldn't put it past you to kiss a thestral on a dare—"  
  
"What, you think that that was a _dare_?" Sebastian demanded, waving his hands abstractly as if trying to indicate what had happened a moment ago. "You really think that I would kiss you because some prick dared me to?"  
  
"It's the only logical reason, by process of elimination," Kurt said stiffly, hyper-aware of the heat in his cheeks and the memory of Sebastian’s lips on his.    
  
Sebastian stared at him for a moment, mouth still hanging open slightly. Kurt sort of wanted to—no, he didn't. He hated Sebastian. Sebastian was repulsive. Kurt would just as soon make out with a...hippo, or something. Yes, a hippo. Provided it didn't eat him first.  
  
Sebastian shook his head. "I'll see you in Potions," he said, his voice flat as he turned and walked away, shoulders hunched.   
  
Kurt watched him go, a sinking feeling in his stomach and his heart thumping at the base of his throat. He touched his fingers to his lips and sighed, turning around and making his way in the opposite direction to the way Sebastian had gone. 


	2. Strangeness and Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hogwarts AU] Kurt Hummel never wanted to be a Slytherin--especially not when it landed him in the same house as Sebastian Smythe.

"What took you so long?" Rachel whispered to Kurt as he slipped into the seat next to her in Charms. "Was the book really that good?" She did a double-take when she saw his ink-stained hands. He'd exchanged his ruined shirt and robes for clean ones, but he hadn't had the time to scrub his hands clean, already being ten minutes late for Charms.

"Ink bottle broke," Kurt muttered out of the side of his mouth as he took out his ink-splattered books and flipped to the right page. "Had to go get changed."

Rachel raised her eyebrows and passed him a fresh sheet of parchment. "That I can see," she said, "but the Kurt I know would hardly just slip over in the hallway."

Kurt shrugged. "Just having a clumsy day, I guess," he said in a low voice, bending his head over the page as he copied out the date and title. "What have I missed?"

Rachel launched into an explanation of the past fifteen minutes in an excited whisper as Kurt fiddled with his quill and made vague sounds of agreement, not really listening to her and instead thinking about the kiss in the hallway, his cheeks heating up slightly at the memory. Vaguely, he realised that his name was being called; he looked up to see the teacher glaring at him, his arms folded and a definite down-turn to his mouth.

"If you would like to join us any time today, Mr Hummel, that would be pleasant," Professor Hemmingway said, his tone disapproving.

Kurt swallowed. "Sorry," he said, ducking his head and trying to avoid the curious stares of his classmates. "I…could you repeat the question?"

"I was wondering if you could explain to me the root of the spell we are using today."

Kurt flicked a glance sideways at Rachel's parchment, hoping to find inspiration there, but her page was filled with miniscule, cramped handwriting that he couldn't read from where he was sat. "Um...I'm afraid I don't know, sir," he said after a moment of awkward silence.

Professor Hemmingway raised an eyebrow. "Curious, seeing as I just explained it in great detail to the rest of the class. Pray, tell us what was so important that it occupied your mind whilst you should have been paying attention to me?"

Kurt's face felt like he'd stuck it in a fire. He was pretty certain his eyebrows would burn off if he blushed any harder. "Nothing, sir. Just tired."

Professor Hemmingway's other eyebrow joined the first. He inclined his head to Rachel. "Miss Berry? Were you listening?"

Kurt dropped his head into his hands as Rachel answered, wishing he could just sink under the table and never emerge. He gave Rachel a wan smile when she kicked his shin, but shook his head when she raised her eyebrows questioningly.

The rest of the lesson passed in a bit of a blur, Rachel nudging her parchment over to Kurt so he could copy, and simply staring at the table in between writing down notes.

When the lesson ended, Rachel grabbed his arm—Kurt was vividly reminded of when Sebastian had gripped him in the same place earlier—and dragged him out of the classroom, her mouth set in a firm line. She pulled him into an empty classroom and leaned back against the door, her expression serious and her arms folded. "So," she said, "what's wrong?"

Kurt put on his blankest face. "What do you mean?"

"You're never late to lessons, Kurt," she snapped, her dark eyes flashing. She pushed her hair back from her face and gave him a measured look. "You came in late, covered in ink, and then didn't pay attention all lesson—that's not normal behaviour, you know."

Kurt shrugged. "Everybody has bad days, Rachel."

"You don't."

He shrugged again and tried for a smile. "High time I had one then, isn't it?"

Rachel shook her head and took a step forward, looking up at him with an unhappy twist to her lips. "You used to tell me things, you know that. I tell  _you_  everything."

There was a crack in the floor near Kurt's foot. He traced it with the tip of his shoe and didn't answer.

" _Kurt_."

He was unprepared to see the hurt in her eyes when he looked up. "It's not you," he said, trying to put as much earnestness into his voice as he could. "It's just...complicated."

"Right." Rachel pressed her lips together until they were a white line striped across her face, and shook her head. "You will tell me eventually, right?"

Kurt nodded and reached out to tug on a stray chestnut curl, smiling slightly when she smacked his hand away with a glare. "I will. I promise." He hitched his bag further up on his shoulder, and shrugged. "It's just not something I can talk about right now."

Rachel suddenly looked worried. "You're not—you're safe, right? You're not—?"

"I'm not hurting myself." He shook his head. "It's nothing like that. I’m not in trouble, either."

She narrowed her eyes. "Is it to do with Sebastian?"

Kurt gaped at her. " _No_ ," he insisted. "What makes you think that?"

She smirked. "Oh, nothing."

He narrowed his eyes. "It's  _nothing_  to do with Sebastian," he said forcefully. " _Nothing_."

Rachel smiled then, sudden and bright as a lightbulb in a darkened room. "Okay, if you say so." She pulled open the door and wandered out into the corridor, saying brightly, "Well, it's really quite a good thing that it isn't to do with Sebastian, seeing as you have double Potions with him next."

_ Fuck.  _ He'd forgotten about that. Kurt swallowed and trailed after her, mind whirring with possible ways of avoiding having to even look at Sebastian for the entire duration of the lesson.  
  
He was screwed.

*

Kurt very pointedly didn't look across at Sebastian’s workstation when he entered the Potions dungeon. He only looked across at Sebastian’s workstation when five minutes of the lesson had passed and he had yet to hear a snarky comment from that particular corner of the classroom.

Sebastian’s workstation was empty. The worktop was clear, the cauldron out of sight and—most importantly—Sebastian himself wasn't there. Kurt frowned and tried to remember if he had ever before seen Sebastian miss a Potions lesson.

He came up short.

On his way over to the stock cupboard to pick up some more salamander blood, he paused by Blaine's workstation. Blaine was a dark-headed Hufflepuff with an even temper and a warm personality that meant he was friends with practically everybody and knew everything that went on in Hogwarts. Kurt privately considered him a gossip on par with Rachel, although he'd never say as much to either of them for fear of having his ear hexed off.

Blaine gave him a toothy grin when Kurt leaned against the side of the table. "Hey, Kurt," he said, tone ever-cheerful. "What can I do for you?"

Kurt shrugged. "I just noticed that Sebastian wasn't here today and was wondering what's up with him."

Blaine picked up his knife and started to dice his ginger root. "Well, Santana said that he's not been in lessons the entire afternoon." He flicked a bit of dirt from his cuff and gave Kurt an apologetic shrug. "I assumed he was just ill." He frowned. "Though I've never known him to be ill before. He's one of the healthiest people I know."

"Must have eaten something that disagreed with him," Kurt said, biting his lip. "Um, thanks, Blaine."

Blaine waved the knife at him cheerily. "No problem. Why were you asking?"

Kurt forced a laugh, although laughing felt like the last thing he wanted to do. "Oh, I was just wondering why he'd decided against gracing us with his presence this afternoon."

"I'll let Santana know to tell him that you were asking after him," Blaine agreed.

Kurt frowned. "Who's Santana?"

Blaine gave him a strange look. "His cousin. They're practically brother and sister."

"Oh," was all Kurt said. "I didn't know that."

"That’s probably because you don’t really talk to the rest of your house, to be honest,” Blaine said, his voice mild. “Not everybody in Slytherin is evil, you know.”

Kurt raised an eyebrow. “I know that. I’m friends with Rachel, after all.”

“And who else?” Blaine leaned against his workstation, hazel eyes warm and irritatingly sympathetic. “You can’t ignore your entire house forever, you know.”

Kurt didn't respond to that. He just waved an absent hand in Blaine's general direction before heading over to the stocks cupboard to get his salamander blood.

It wasn't until he'd returned to his workstation that he realised he'd picked up leech juice instead.

*

Rachel settled into the seat next to Kurt at dinner with a frown on her face. Kurt gave her a curious look, quirking an eyebrow as he forked a floret of broccoli into his mouth. "What's wrong?" he asked, as soon as he'd finished his mouthful.

Rachel scowled at her own plate, not reaching for any food. "Brittany still hasn't asked me out," she said in a small voice, face downcast. "I was  _sure_  she was going to."

Kurt made a face. "Well, she might not have had time yet," he pointed out, keeping a reasonable tone to his voice.

"I've spoken to her  _twice_ ," she replied, sounding aggrieved, "and I had Ancient Runes with her just now."

"A Hufflepuff's taking Ancient Runes?"

Rachel hit him. "Don't be so racist."

"How am I being racist?"

Rachel stole his glass of water and sipped, a mulish expression on her petite features. "Hufflepuffs are just as smart as anybody else."

Kurt snorted. "Sure. Weren’t you saying something the other day about how she thinks I’m a unicorn?"

Rachel shot him a venomous look. "See, this is why you still don't have a date," she said, slamming his glass down on the table forcefully enough for water to splash out over the rim and onto the white cotton tablecloth. "You're just too much of a bitch for anybody to want to ask you out."

Kurt blinked at her. "Okay, so maybe this isn't the best time to discuss the intellectuality of Hufflepuffs," he said slowly, laying down his knife and fork.

"No shit." She pursed her lips, a pink blush starting to form high on her cheeks. She looked away, expression suddenly regretful. "Sorry, that was harsh."

"It's okay," Kurt said, albeit warily. "We all have our bad days."

Rachel nodded, giving him a slight smile. "That reminds me—I heard through the grapevine that Sebastian hasn't been in lessons all afternoon." She raised her eyebrows, leaning forward to help herself to a baked potato. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Kurt choked on his broccoli. He hastily finished off what was left of the water in his glass. "No. Of course not." He poured himself some more water, not looking Rachel in the eye. He was sure that, if he were to look at her properly, she would see the lie in his face.

Apparently she had mystical lie-detecting powers even without eye contact—although Kurt suspected that was called 'being a girl'—for she poked him hard in the ribs. "Tell," she demanded. "I  _know_  you know something about it. You have that look on your face."

"What look?"

"That look where you look all shifty and start doing something else other than look at me." She slathered butter all over her baked potato, watching in satisfaction as it melted and dripped all over her salad. "You've been hiding something all afternoon, actually."

_ Damn. _  He really needed to get new avoidance techniques. He shrugged, aiming for evasive instead. "I ran into Sebastian after lunch, that was all. He broke my ink bottle."  
  
Rachel gave him a sideways glance. "You sure that's all that happened?"  
  
Kurt paused. Should he lie here and avoid the interrogation that was sure to happen, or tell the truth and get it over with? "I'm sure," he said finally.  
  
Rachel gave him a disappointed look. "If you say so," she said, stabbing at her baked potato with her fork.  
  
"I say so," Kurt said firmly, giving his rather limp broccoli another half-hearted prod before getting to his feet and shouldering his bag. "I'm just going to head off to the library, 'kay?"  
  
Rachel nodded, not looking at him, and pulled out a book from her bag.  
  
He looked at her bowed dark head and felt a cold, hard knot settle in his stomach, although he couldn't identify which emotion that placed it there. He reached out to pat her on the head then thought better of it, instead picking up a slice of bread from the breadbasket and nodding at some third years across the table before trudging off towards the doors leading to the main hall.  
  
He tore strips from the slice of bread as he walked, taking the side stairs up to the library on the fourth floor. It tasted sour in his mouth, but he swallowed it down, making a face as he did so.  
  
The library was practically empty when he slipped in through a side-door, most students down in the Great Hall at dinner. He made a beeline for his usual table by a window, but was brought to a halt when he saw two people already sitting there, heads bent together over a large book. The girl looked up, her brown eyes widening when she saw him. Kurt vaguely recognised her as one of the sixth-year Slytherin prefect, the silver badge on her green-and-grey tie cementing that fact. She elbowed the boy, hissing something in an urgent undertone that made the boy look up and stare at Kurt with guarded eyes. "Hello, Kurt," Sebastian said, his tone carefully neutral. He was pale, dark bags beneath his eyes and five o'clock shadow on his jaw.  
  
"Um." Kurt blinked. "Uh...hi?"  
  
"Wow, I completely understand why you like him," the girl said, arching an elegant eyebrow. "You were always one for witty conversation."  
  
Sebastian didn't take his eyes off Kurt, although he coloured slightly. "Shut up, Santana."  
  
"Just pointing out a fact," she said, rolling her eyes and picking up the tome they'd been poring over, struggling to tuck it under her arm as she got up from the table. "I’ll go, then?”  
  
It took Kurt a moment to realise that that would effectively leave Sebastian and himself alone, but he had barely opened his mouth to protest when he saw the hunted look in Sebastian’s eyes and closed it again. "Sure," he heard himself saying instead, his mouth seeming to move of its own accord.  
  
Sebastian looked at him with a wary expression, his face closed and as shuttered as the windows of a cottage preparing for a snowstorm. Kurt swallowed and moved forward to take the seat that Santana had vacated, settling down and dropping his bag by his feet. "I owe you an apology," he said, his mouth suddenly dry and his heart fluttering like a trapped moth inside a glass jam-jar. "I acted like a dick and I shouldn't have done."  
  
Sebastian didn't say anything. He had his arms folded across his chest, leaning back in his chair as if trying to move himself as far away from Kurt as he could. Kurt ignored the pang of hurt this sent through him and ploughed on, fixing his eyes on a particularly interesting knot of wood on the table-top. He traced it with his finger, his nail scraping against the slightly-sticky varnish. "I should have given you the chance to explain yourself," he said, his cheeks warming slightly at the memory of how he'd simply turned tail and fled. He looked up, hoping against hope that Sebastian wasn't going to just laugh in his face and swagger off like he half-expected him to do.  
  
Sebastian stared back at him, his expression still as wary as before.  
  
Kurt swallowed nervously, licking his lips. He didn't miss how Sebastian’s eyes flickered down to track the movement before snapping up to meet his eyes again. Kurt shrugged, gripping the edge of the table and spreading his fingers across the top, resisting the urge to tap his fingers impatiently. "This is your chance to explain," he said lamely, looking down again. The knot of wood was really quite fascinating, he decided. It deserved his full attention.  
  
Sebastian’s voice was low and rough when he spoke. "What makes you think I want to explain?"  
  
Kurt paused, momentarily thrown. "I...I don't know," he admitted, cursing his conscience for ever suggesting that it would be a good idea to sit down and try to talk this out with Sebastian.  
  
"Well, I don't," Sebastian said, still looking at Kurt with an intent look in his sharp green eyes. "I've already told you everything I want to."  
  
Kurt snorted, feeling irritation coil, lazy and unpredictable in his belly. "Enough with the enigmatic bullshit, Sebastian. I'm giving you a chance here."  
  
"How generous of you," Sebastian drawled, his customary smirk sliding back into place. "I don't know how you get by when you give out so much to any poor bastard that doesn't even ask for it."  
  
"Fuck this." Kurt got to his feet again, hefting his bag over his shoulder and glaring at Sebastian. "I was going to offer to help you with Transfiguration again, but I'm glad I didn't get that far because I honestly think I would have ended up killing you before the end of the first session."  
  
"Nice to know we're back to death threats," Sebastian said idly, a glint in his eyes. "It quite honestly creeps me out when you're all caring and sharing."  
  
"I don't  _do_  caring and sharing. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go and get some actual studying done rather than wasting my breath on you."  
  
Sebastian’s eyebrow quirked. "A waste of time, am I? Nice to know what you really think, babe."  
  
"Fuck you," Kurt said automatically.  
  
Sebastian paused, clearly remembering the kiss in the hallway. Kurt knew his own cheeks were a furious shade of red. "Well," Sebastian said slowly, "I  _would_  take you up on that offer if it wasn't for the fact that I'm pretty sure you believe that I'm a liar."  
  
Kurt didn't know what to say to that. "I never said you were a liar," he said, when the silence got too much to bear. "I just don't trust you."  
  
"You don't trust me?" Sebastian looked and sounded genuinely surprised and hurt by that. "What do you think I'd do—murder you in your sleep?"  
  
Kurt narrowed his eyes. "What proof have you ever given me that you wouldn't do so at the first opportunity you got?"  
  
Sebastian stared at him, his mouth hanging open slightly. Kurt tried not to think about the way that full mouth had felt against his own and failed miserably. "You really think that little of me?" he said, his voice bereft of its usual teasing lilt.  
  
"You're a Slytherin."  
  
"So are you.” Sebastian shook his head. "Since when have I ever done something to you to merit this hatred?"  
  
"Other than torment me for the last five years of my life?" Kurt shot back. "You exploded my potion only the other day."  
  
Sebastian’s eyebrows leapt up his forehead. "You think I did that on purpose?"  
  
"You threw something into it—of course you did it on purpose." Kurt knew he sounded sulky, but he couldn't quite bring himself to care.  
  
"I was passing you a note!" Sebastian protested, sitting up straight and giving Kurt a beseeching look. "I just missed."  
  
"Oh?" Kurt folded his arms, deliberately schooling his expression into one suitable cold and stony. "And what did this note say?"  
  
Quite astonishingly, Sebastian blushed and looked down. "It was asking you if you wanted to study with me after dinner," he said, sounding as if this was something to be terribly embarrassed about.  
  
Kurt frowned, confused. "Why?"  
  
Sebastian chewed on his lower lip, teeth bruising the soft pink flesh. "I wanted to get to know you," he muttered, his ears turning a rather fetching shade of red. "All we ever seem to do is argue."  
  
"Because we hate each others' guts." Kurt knew that that had sounded crueller than he had intended, and he wanted to kick himself as soon as the words had left his mouth when he saw the way that Sebastian’s eyes hardened once more.  
  
"If that's what you want to believe," Sebastian said coolly, standing up and smoothing down his robes. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm rather late for dinner."  
  
"Sebastian—" Kurt tried, albeit rather half-heartedly.  
  
Sebastian swung around and glared at him with such anger that Kurt flinched. "Don't," he spat, his tone uncharacteristically vicious. "Save your platitudes for somebody who actually cares."  
  
And with that, he spun on his heel and stormed out of the library, the set of his shoulders furious and threatening. Kurt was left feeling nauseous and with a bitter taste in his mouth.

*

He should have known that this would happen, really. Bullies never back down for good when shamed; they only retreat to lick their wounds in peace before springing another attack—one which Kurt should really have been expecting. He'd encountered enough bullies during his childhood to know that they weren't going to back down that easy.

So he shouldn't really have been all that surprised when Karofsky and his cronies jumped him after dinner one evening. They had waited until he had left Rachel—he was planning on heading to the library to collect a book on severing charms for his Charms homework, whereas she had Quidditch practice to attend—and then, when he was walking along one of the short-cuts in semi-gloom, leapt out from behind the statue of Boris the Giant Bobblehead and knocked him to the ground.

Kurt saw stars as his head smacked into the stone floor, his mouth flooding with blood from a bitten tongue.

Karofsky loomed over him, his expression maliciously gleeful. "Not so bold now, are you?"

"Fuck you," Kurt spat, feeling blood dribble out down his chin.

Karofsky made a mock-shocked expression, his mouth making an 'o' and his eyes widening. "Is the little fairy afraid?" he asked. "Do you kiss your mother with that mouth? Oh wait—she’s dead, isn’t she? Fucking mudblood."

Kurt growled and tried to kick his knees. One of Karofsky's cronies—Kurt really didn't give a fuck about the asshole's name—stamped on his leg. Kurt felt, rather than heard, something snap in his ankle and a sharp jolt of pain lance up his leg to his spine. There was an outraged yell, and it took him a moment to realise that he was the one making the noise. "Fucking bastard," he said, pain making his breathing shallow and ragged. "I will  _rip your fucking eyes out._ "

Karofsky snorted. Kurt's vision was spinning worryingly; Karofsky's face was coming in and out of focus like a poorly adjusted camera. He looked kind of funny.

"You think this is funny?" Karofsky asked, his voice carrying a hint of uncertainty with it. "What's so funny, you little faggot?"

Kurt hadn't realised he was smiling. He let out a sharp laugh. “Are you really so stupid as to think that you can kick the gay out of me?”

Karofsky let out a growl of rage and kicked him hard in the ribs, sending a wave of agony washing over Kurt, nearly causing him to black out. "Shut up, you sack of shit," Karofsky hissed, kicking Kurt again for good measure. Kurt closed his eyes and tried to ignore the way his lungs felt like they were on fire.


	3. Strangeness and Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Hogwarts AU] Kurt Hummel never wanted to be a Slytherin--especially not when it landed him in the same house as Sebastian Smythe.

He came to in a soft bed, his leg no longer screaming in pain and his ribs reduced to only a throbbing ache.   
  
"You're awake," a familiar voice said quietly. Kurt turned his head to see Sebastian draped across a chair, gold reading glasses perched on his nose and a tatty paperback in his hands—a muggle one as well, from the look of it.  
  
Kurt closed his eyes again, but when he reopened them Sebastian was still sitting there, the hints of a smirk playing around his lips. "What're you doing here?" Kurt asked—or at least tried to, his tongue heavy and cumbersome in his mouth.  
  
Sebastian rolled his eyes and got to his feet, reaching out to grab a couple of pillows from a stack on the windowsill. He helped Kurt to sit up, propping the pillows behind Kurt's back before pouring him a glass of water.   
  
Kurt's fingers squeaked on the misty-cold glass as he took it, his hand shaking slightly with the exertion. Sebastian sighed and took it from him, carefully lifting it to Kurt's mouth without spilling a drop. The water tasted cool and sweet on Kurt's tongue. He tried to swallow a bigger mouthful but choked, spluttering water down his front.   
  
"Idiot," Sebastian muttered, reaching out to dry off Kurt's chin with a cuff.   
  
Kurt pulled away, cheeks burning. "You don't need to be here," he pointed out, his voice coming clearer now.   
  
"I told the nurse I'd stay until you woke up." Sebastian set the glass down—Kurt winced at the lack of a coaster—and shrugged.   
  
"Well, I'm awake now," Kurt said.   
  
Sebastian ignored him and settled down in his chair again, picking up his book and folding the corner of the page over to mark his place. Kurt winced again.   
  
"In other words, there's no reason for you to be here." Kurt tried to fold his arms but the jolt of pain that the movement sent through his chest caused him to gasp and unfold them again.   
  
"Nurse says you shouldn't move," Sebastian said, frowning at Kurt in a particularly annoyed manner, forehead furrowing. "You took a real bashing."  
  
"I'd noticed."   
  
"Good thing I came along when I did, really," Sebastian continued, as if Kurt hadn't even spoken. "You'd probably be in St. Mungo's ICU otherwise."  
  
Kurt frowned at him. "You're exaggerating. Like always."  
  
Sebastian fixed him with a serious look. "Not exaggerating."  
  
"They wouldn't have gone that far." Even as the words left his mouth, Kurt realised the falseness of them. He swallowed and looked down at his clasped hands in his lap. "Thanks," he said quietly. It wasn't as hard to say as he'd expected.  
  
Sebastian’s eyebrows leapt up his forehead. "Do my ears deceive me?" he asked in a mock-astonished tone. "Did Kurt ‘I’m better than you’ Hummel just _apologise_?"  
  
"I am capable of apologising sometimes, Sebastian." Kurt scowled. "Stop making this out to be such a big deal."  
  
Sebastian pressed a hand to his chest. "Oh, but it _is_! I must alert the media—"  
  
"What, about the alarming resemblance you bear to various members of the weasel family?”  
  
Sebastian smiled then, so sudden and unexpected that Kurt was momentarily wrong-footed. "That's more like it. Nice Kurt was starting to creep me out a little—I was worrying that you'd hit your head harder than we'd realised."  
  
"Fuck. Off," Kurt said steadily, as if Sebastian was a slow tourist who needed things said both loudly, slowly and multiple times. Only he was nicer to Sebastian than he would be to a tourist. Vultures. And the thought that he was being nicer to Sebastian than he would be to somebody else was a rather disturbing line of thought, one which he was grateful to have broken by Rachel's arrival.  
  
"Kurt!" she squeaked, sounding positively delighted to see him. She rushed over, dropping her bag on the foot of Kurt's bed and grabbing him in a tight hug that made Kurt's head spin, both from the pain from his ribs and from lack of air.   
  
"Careful, hobbit-girl," Sebastian said, amused. "He's still got three broken ribs."  
  
"Sorry, sorry," she said, letting him go instantly. She grinned at him, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "I'm just glad to see you awake. I was getting ready to sing tearfully at your bedside if you didn’t wake up soon.” She frowned slightly. “Actually, I’m quite sad to have missed out on that opportunity. I’m convinced the only reason Brittany doesn’t love me yet is because she hasn’t heard me sing—and it would have been perfectly moving for her to hear me sing at my friend’s sickbed.”   
  
Kurt rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry to have caused you to miss out on the chance to use my injuries as a tool in wooing your soon-to-be girlfriend. How long have I been out?"  
  
"About a day," Sebastian said, tucking his long legs up underneath himself on the chair and taking his glasses off, stowing them inside his robes.  
  
Kurt frowned. "You've been out of classes all that time?"   
  
Sebastian shrugged. "They weren't particularly interesting anyway."  
  
"And the teachers just _let_ you?"   
  
Sebastian smirked lazily, draping himself over the arm of the chair. He stroked the spine of the closed book in his lap, fingers unconsciously tracing over the weathered spine almost seductively. "You would be surprised what a charming personality can do for you, Kurt."   
  
"Of course, you would know," Kurt said, injecting as much sarcasm into his voice as he could.   
  
Unabashed, Sebastian just grinned at him and tapped his fingers on the cover of his book.   
  
Kurt narrowed his eyes. "Have you been sitting in here all day?" he demanded.   
  
"No," Sebastian said at the same time that Rachel said "yes". Sebastian gave Rachel a pointed look and firmly repeated, "No. Do you really think I'd waste my time hanging around at your bedside?"  
  
"Yes," Rachel said, grinning impishly at Sebastian when he kicked her. "He had me bring him up books so he wouldn't get bored."  
  
Kurt leaned back, his ribs aching from the strain of sitting up straight. He folded his hands in his lap and raised an eyebrow, noting with curiosity how the tips of Sebastian’s ears were stained red. "Rachel, would you mind getting me a drink?" he asked, hoping she would take the hint and ignore the fact that he had a half-drunk glass of water on the stand.   
  
"Sure," she chirped, flashing Sebastian a smile before bouncing out the room. They could hear her humming as she headed down the stairs.   
  
"She's in a good mood," Kurt said, "especially considering the fact she was pissed with me before."  
  
Sebastian fixed Kurt with a suspicious look. "Unless you have some strange kind of amnesia that causes you to forget things at random, you know full well that you have half a glass of water on the nightstand. And unless Rachel's suddenly become mysteriously blind, she knows that too."  
  
"Maybe I wanted some juice instead," Kurt said, suddenly feeling defensive. How in Merlin's name had he thought that talking to Sebastian was a good idea?   
  
"Cut the crap, Kurt, and tell me what's going on," Sebastian snapped, sitting up straight and glaring at Kurt with an odd sort of vulnerability in his gaze.    
  
Kurt swallowed. He sort of wished that he hadn't sent Rachel away, now. "Why did you decide to stay with me all day?"   
  
Sebastian narrowed his eyes. He looked more ruffled than Kurt thought he'd ever seen him before. "You already know why, Kurt."  
  
"Actually, no, I don't." Kurt started to fold his arms, but then remembered that it was a bad idea and instead clasped them in his lap, fingernails digging crescents into the backs of his fingers. "Enlighten me, if you would be so kind."  
  
Sebastian abruptly got to his feet and started pacing. "I've already told you that I...like you," he said, crossing his arms and glaring at Kurt. He looked like he was only just managing to keep from yelling—or bursting into tears.   
  
Kurt tore his gaze away from Sebastian and instead stared down at his hands in his lap. He felt like his insides were writhing, panic starting to claw its way up his throat and into his mouth where it pinned down his tongue, rendering him mute. He looked back up again when Sebastian let out a harsh bark of laughter, rough and broken-sounding. He shook his head and sat back down again, tucking his knees up against his chest and hugging them. He was biting down on his lower lip, bruising the full pink flesh. Kurt sort of wanted to kiss him.  
  
Wait. What?  
  
Kurt closed his eyes for a second, hoping that when he opened them Sebastian would be gone and this would all have been some sort of drug-induced hallucination.   
  
But no. He wasn't so lucky.  
  
Sebastian wasn't looking at him, instead choosing to stare down at the floor with a curiously blank expression on his face. He looked young; brown hair starting to flop from its upswept coiff, jaw clean-shaven and his face angular in that way that teenage boys get before they start to fill out some more.   
  
Kurt opened his mouth, then shut it again. The panic was starting to recede, making way for a oddly hysterical feeling that Kurt wasn't sure he liked—he had no idea if he was about to burst into laughter or if he was going to start yelling and throwing things: neither of which were things he particularly wanted to have happen in front of Sebastian. "Look," he said after a moment where he tried to wrestle his emotions back under control. "I didn't realise you were serious." He licked his lips, his mouth strangely dry. He felt sick, his stomach clenched into a tight, wriggling ball of anxiety and fear. "I thought you were just mocking me," he finished, voice low. His hands were stinging where his fingernails had dug into slightly too hard.   
  
When he finally managed to look at Sebastian, Sebastian looked completely bewildered. "Uh," Sebastian said, forehead crinkling, "how does kissing you translate to mocking you?"  
  
Kurt flushed, his cheeks prickling with the all-too-familiar heat. "I thought you knew."  
  
"Knew what?"  
  
"Um," Kurt said, not quite sure whether this was going quite as he had intended. "That I like you.” He squeezed his eyes shut, not sure if he would be able to take what he was sure would be an expression of mocking derision on Sebastian’s face.   
  
Instead, he heard a low, amused chuckle. He cracked open one eye, frowning when he saw a blurry Sebastian rocking backwards and forwards, a hand slapped over his face.   
  
"It's not funny," Kurt said petulantly, opening both eyes fully so he could glare at Sebastian. "It's actually rather serious."  
  
Sebastian just shook his head and laughed even harder.   
  
Kurt huffed and wished that he didn't have three broken ribs, so that he could fold his arms. "I'd appreciate it if you'd stop laughing at me."  
  
Sebastian took his hand away from his face and grinned at Kurt, face pink and eyes watery from laughing. "I'm just appreciating the irony," he said, still chuckling slightly.     
  
Kurt frowned. "I'm not following."  
  
Sebastian unfolded himself from the chair and came over to perch on the edge of Kurt bed, reaching out to take Kurt's hand. Kurt blushed again, automatically pulling his hand back from Sebastian’s warm grasp.   
  
"M'not a girl," he muttered, looking away in embarrassment.   
  
Sebastian huffed out a soft laugh. "I'd noticed. It’s kinda part of the appeal." He bit his lip, looking conflicted. "I'm going to kiss you now, if that's okay?"  
  
Kurt had barely opened his mouth to agree when he found warm lips on his own. He made a muffled sound of surprise; Sebastian pulled back as quickly as if Kurt had hit him, eyes wide. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"   
  
"I'm fine," Kurt said breathlessly, unable to tear his eyes from Sebastian’s mouth. His pulse was fluttering at the base of his throat and his lips were tingling. "Just took me by surprise."  
  
Sebastian grinned suddenly. He shifted closer to Kurt until their faces were only inches apart. "Good," he breathed, and Kurt could taste him on his tongue, slightly cinnamon and nutmeg and completely addicting. Kurt closed the gap between them and kissed Sebastian again, forcing Sebastian’s mouth open and biting down slightly on his lower lip until Sebastian made a murmur of complaint, then licking deep into Sebastian’s mouth. He felt dizzy, intoxicated and light-headed, spinning wildly out of control and not able to care in the slightest.   
  
Sebastian brought his hand up to cup Kurt's cheek, stroking his thumb along Kurt's cheekbone as he turned the kiss gentler, lazier, before pulling away and grinning at Kurt. "I find it hard to believe that you've never kissed before," he said, lilting amusement in his tone and, for the first time, it didn't send a shiver of irritation through Kurt.   
  
Kurt shrugged, biting down on his tongue when the movement sent a wave of pain through his torso. "Guess I'm just a natural, then," he said with a rather Sebastian-esque smirk.   
  
Sebastian hummed in agreement and leaned in for another kiss when a delighted shriek pierced the warm mugginess that was so pleasantly overpowering Kurt's mind. He glared at Rachel as she approached them, fingers curling possessively around Sebastian’s tie, keeping him in place. He didn't even remember grabbing hold of it, but it was surprisingly handy. "Can't you see we're busy?" he said, not caring about the whining tone to his voice.   
  
"Oh, don't mind me," Rachel said, sitting in the chair that Sebastian had vacated. "Just carry on."  
  
"Perv," Kurt muttered, forcing himself to let go of Sebastian’s tie. "I still don't see where you get off on all of this."   
  
Rachel stuck out her tongue at him, but didn't stop grinning. "I'm not going to say 'I told you so'." She gave it a second's thought. "Actually, no, I am. Told you so!"   
  
"Fuck off," Kurt said easily, smiling at her despite his irritation. "Why are you even here?"  
  
She shrugged, jerking a thumb at her bag. "I brought you your school books," she said. "I thought you might want to catch up on homework. Sebastian too."  
  
Sebastian snorted, hand creeping out to take Kurt's again. This time, Kurt didn't pull away. "No, thanks."  
  
Kurt pinched his hand.   
  
"Ow! What the fuck, Kurt?" Sebastian complained, cradling his hand against his chest and giving Kurt a wounded look. "There's no need to _maul_ me."  
  
"I believe the correct reply to Rachel was, 'thank you so much for thinking of me, Rachel—I'd love to catch up on my homework'." Kurt smiled, baring his teeth.   
  
"Bloody hell, fine," Sebastian grumbled, still rubbing his hand.   
  
Kurt rolled his eyes and reached out to reclaim Sebastian’s hand. "Stop being such a baby," he said, brushing his thumb over the back of Sebastian’s hand. "I didn't pinch you _that_ hard."  
  
Sebastian pouted, his lower lips jutting out. Kurt sort of wanted to bite it. "I have very sensitive skin.”   
  
Kurt smirked.  
  
"You two are so sappy," Rachel announced. "It's making my teeth ache."  
  
"You don't have to stay," Kurt said, not looking away from Sebastian. "Wouldn't want you to get cavities."  
  
Rachel sighed, sounding put-upon. "I guess I'll just have to brush my teeth really well tonight."  
  
"You do that, sweetheart," Sebastian said, winking at Kurt. "Actually, just to be on the safe side, why don't you go and do that now?"  
  
"I'm fine, thanks."  
  
"That was a hint, Rachel."  
  
"What was?" she said, faux-innocent.   
  
"Just go away, sweetheart," Sebastian said. "Kurt and I are trying to have a _moment_ , here."  
  
"Oh, sorry." Rachel got up, pulling out a couple of books from her bag and placing them on the sidetable. "Going, going." She ambled out of the hospital wing, sending a wink in their direction before closing the door behind her.   
  
"Finally," Sebastian murmured, inching closer to Kurt again. "Now, where were we?"  
  
"Apparently we were trying to have a _moment_ ," Kurt said, brain starting to stop functioning again at Sebastian’s proximity. "And I hope by _moment_ you meant make-out session."  
  
"You read my mind, babe."

*  


Sebastian and Kurt were curled up on a couch in a corner of the Slytherin common room, lit with a soft blue-green light from the window into the lake, when Karofsky clambered through the portrait-hole. Kurt stiffened, the warmth of Sebastian’s side pressed against his own suddenly a beacon, flashing ‘Come get us! Look at us being gay in the corner over here!’   
  
Sebastian evidently felt Kurt’s tension, because he looked at him in concern—an expression Kurt could only now recognise as such, the only indicator of concern being a slight creasing of Sebastian’s brow. “You okay?” he asked, pitching his voice low and intimate.   
  
Kurt didn’t look at him, unable to tear his eyes away from Karofsky’s leer over the other side of the common room. “Yeah,” he said weakly, his ribs giving an insistent throb, a reminder of what Karofsky could—and would—do. “Just…tired.”  
  
Sebastian wriggled slightly closer and Kurt had to resist the urge to flinch away. Laying a warm hand on Kurt’s arm, his book completely forgotten, Sebastian scrutinised Kurt’s face. “We can head upstairs, if you want,” he offered. His mouth curved into a smirk. “My bed’s more comfortable, anyway.”   
  
Kurt smiled back, although all he felt was nauseous, Karofsky’s presence turning what should be a comforting touch into one that left him feeling dirty and fearful. “A tempting offer, but one I’ll have to decline,” he said. “I really just need to get some sleep.” He pushed himself upright and got to his feet, his skin feeling cold now he was away from Sebastian’s heat. He shook his head when Sebastian made to get up as well, smiling tightly. “I’m fine, don’t worry. I’d only fall asleep on you and be terribly boring company.”  
  
“I don’t mind.” Sebastian looked at him with a softness in his eyes that made Kurt’s breath catch in his throat. The temptation to crawl back into his arms threatened to overwhelm him until he remembered Karofsky’s hulking presence still there in the room.   
  
Kurt shook his head. “Thanks, but no thanks.” He tried to ignore how hurt flickered in Sebastian’s eyes and flashed him a brief smile before turning and hurrying towards the door to the boys’ dormitories.   
  
He had barely passed the door to the first years’ room when he was slammed up against the wall. A thick arm was placed squarely across his throat and Karofsky’s breath ghosted hot across on his face.   
  
“What was that with Smythe in there, Hummel?” Karofsky demanded, voice pitched low but furious. “You spreading your gay everywhere, huh? Desperate for any guy who decides to take pity on you?”  
  
Kurt shoved at him. His pulse was racing, his ribs screaming and the pressure at the base of his throat making it hard to think. “Get off me, you fucking Neanderthal,” he hissed, panic starting to rise again.   
  
Karofsky pushed harder. The stone against Kurt’s back was hard and unforgiving. “Answer my question, fag, or you’ll find a fist in your ribs again.”   
  
Kurt struggled to think. “It’s none of your business what Sebastian and I do,” he ended up saying, but he knew the second he opened his mouth that it was no use.  
  
Karofsky laughed. “It’s my business when you come into my house and fairy-up the place. You made it my business when you corrupted one of ours.”  
  
“Big word, that,” Kurt spat. “Did you look it up specially?”   
  
Karofsky growled and used his other arm to grab Kurt’s bicep, digging his fingers in until Kurt gasped in pain and would have buckled at the knees, were he not being held up by his neck. “Go near him again and I will make you regret it.”   
  
Kurt stared at him, pain and fear making his vision sway and blur until all he could focus on was Karofsky’s face and the complete lack of empathy in his eyes. “I didn’t _make_ him gay,” he said, voice rising in pitch and cracking. “He’s gay and there’s nothing you can do about it.”  
  
Karofsky pulled away from him then and Kurt sank to the floor, gasping for air and watching as Karofsky’s expression changed from anger to cruel enjoyment. “Well we’ll just have to go after Smythe, then, won’t we?” Karofsky said, faux-casually. “The gay may be stuck in you, but we might be able to beat it out of him in time.”  
  
And with that, he turned and swaggered back up the stairs to the common room. The door closed behind him with a dull thud, leaving Kurt sat alone on the cold stones of the dimly-lit hallway with a sick feeling coiling in his stomach. 

  
*  


"They got any sausages?" Sebastian asked, plumping down next to Kurt at breakfast and reaching out to grab a slice of toast.   
  
Kurt stared at him. "What are you doing?"  
  
Sebastian paused and frowned, as if confused by what Kurt meant. "...eating breakfast," he said after a moment of silence. He tore a strip off the toast with his teeth, chewing noisily as he stared at Kurt, expectant. "Why," he asked through his mouthful, "is there a problem with that?"  
  
Kurt wrinkled his nose at the half-masticated toast in Sebastian’s mouth. "You're at the wrong end of the table."  
  
Sebastian still looked nonplussed. "Is that a problem?"  
  
"You're at the wrong end of the table," Kurt repeated, as if saying it enough times would somehow cause Sebastian to understand.  
  
Sebastian shrugged and flashed him a cheery smile. "And good morning to you too."  
  
"I think what Kurt's trying to say is that he doesn't understand why his boyfriend might want to sit with him at breakfast," Rachel said with an over-exaggerated eye-roll.   
  
Kurt's frown deepened as Sebastian helped himself to the platter of chipolatas. "People will stare."  
  
"Let them," Sebastian said with a shrug. "It's only breakfast. Sausage?"  
  
"No, thanks." Kurt glanced around. Sure enough, there were a handful of faces looking back at him in curiosity. He glared at them and turned away. "They'll talk," he warned, taking a gulp of his juice and giving Sebastian a pointed look. And definitely not appreciating the line of his jaw.   
  
Sebastian laughed: a soft, intimate sound that sent shivers down Kurt's spine. He reached out and laid a hand on Kurt's shoulder; a casual gesture imbued with such meaning that Kurt's breath caught in his throat. "Then let's give them something to talk about, hmm?"  
  
Kurt snorted, but relaxed in his seat all the same. He jumped when Sebastian matter-of-factly laced their fingers together, pulling his hand away automatically. He saw the hurt that flashed across Sebastian’s face and felt a twinge of guilt in his gut. "Not now," he muttered, unable to meet Sebastian’s eyes. He could feel the eyes of Karofsky and his cronies drilling into the side of his head from where they sat at the other end of the table, not too far from where Sebastian usually sat.   
  
Rachel threw a bunched-up napkin at Kurt's head, bitchfacing at him when he scowled at her. "Stop being such a prude, Kurt," she chided. "Let your boyfriend hold your hand and stop acting like the Wizengamot will come down on your head for it."  
  
"I need both my hands to eat," Kurt protested, holding up his knife and fork.   
  
Sebastian slanted a side-ways look at him, his expression guarded. Kurt wasn't sure whether he wanted to know what was going through Sebastian’s mind or not.   
  
Rachel heaved a put-upon sigh and went back to perusing the pages of a dog-earned copy of _Magical Hieroglyphs and Logograms_. Kurt frowned at her, but didn’t comment.  
  
“So, I was wondering if you could meet me in the library this evening?” Sebastian said, forking scrambled egg into his mouth and chewing noisily. “I could do with some help on my Transfiguration essay.”  
  
Kurt froze, mind racing. “Um,” he said, “I’m kind of busy this evening?”  
  
Sebastian paused in his egg-eating and gave him a curious look. “What are you doing?”  
  
“Just…stuff,” Kurt said, shrugging. He took a gulp of his pumpkin juice and somehow, although he would never know how, managed to choke on it.  
  
Sebastian was there in a second, pressing up close and slapping him on the back, a concerned expression on his face. “You okay?” he asked, hand lingering just slightly too long to be strictly platonic and the heat from his thigh, pressed against Kurt’s, burning through Kurt’s trousers and setting his skin on fire. Kurt wasn’t sure if he liked it or not; he’d never had particularly pyromaniacal tendencies.  
  
His eyes were watering; Sebastian was wetly blurred around the edges, only his face in proper focus. Kurt tried to smile, but knew that it came out as more of a pained grimace. “Fine.” He pulled away from Sebastian’s touch, ignoring the flash of hurt that crossed Sebastian’s face at the obvious rejection, and picked up his bag. “I’m heading off to Arithmancy.”  
  
Rachel looked over the edge of her book to observe, “You’ve barely eaten anything.”  
  
Sebastian reached out and grasped Kurt’s wrist, long fingers curling tight and sending heat scorching through Kurt’s body. Kurt distractedly wondered if he’d find burn marks littering his body by the end of the day. “Sit down and finish your breakfast,” Sebastian said with a small smile, tugging Kurt’s arm.   
  
Kurt frowned. “My class starts in half an hour.”  
  
“That gives you plenty of time to have some toast.” Sebastian dropped a slice of still-warm toast onto Kurt’s plate and handed him a jar of strawberry jam. “Eat, babe,” he said, winking.   
  
“I don’t like strawberry,” Kurt muttered, even as he sat down.  
  
Sebastian said nothing, simply swapping the strawberry for blackcurrant. “I’ll walk you over there when you’ve finished.”  
  
Kurt narrowly avoided choking on his toast, this time. “Um, you don’t need to do that.”  
  
Sebastian shrugged and flashed him a smug smile. “I don’t mind. I have a free period, anyway.”  
  
“You still don’t need to walk me to class, Sebastian.” Kurt felt the familiar surge of irritation rise up in his chest again. In some ways, it was nice to know that kissing Sebastian didn’t make him any less irritating.   
  
“It’s no problem.”  
  
Kurt gritted his teeth. “I know my way around the fucking school, Sebastian.”  
  
Sebastian’s eyebrows jumped up his forehead. “No need to be so touchy, babe.”  
  
“Kurt,” Kurt said, glaring at him. “Not ‘babe’. _Kurt._ It’s my name; maybe you could try using it for once.”  
  
An irritated glint sparked in Sebastian’s eyes. “Fine. _Kurt._ ”  
  
“Good,” Kurt threw back, folding his arms and fixing Sebastian with a mulish expression. “Can I go now?”  
  
“Be my guest,” Sebastian said, lips twitching into a sneer. Kurt wasn’t sure if he wanted to punch him or kiss him, pressing close and bruising his frustration into Sebastian’s skin.   
  
He stood up again, hitching his bag over his shoulder and giving Rachel a curt nod. “I’ll see you later.”  
  
She gave him a narrow-eyed look over the edge of her book and nodded back. “Sure.”  
  
Kurt hesitated for a moment, not sure if he should nod at Sebastian or not. After an awkward moment in which Sebastian pointedly refused to look at Kurt, he turned on his heel and stalked away.

  
*

  
Kurt was distracted all the way through his next lesson. He sat in his usual place at the front of the classroom, but instead of having his hand in the air every five seconds (the teaching had become rather good at dodging Kurt’s hand by now), he nibbled on the end of his quill—ignoring the bits of feather that stuck to his tongue—and stared at the blank sheet of parchment laid out on the desk in front of him.  
  
Professor Abrams stopped halfway through the middle of his talk on the symbolism of the joint usage of the numbers seventy-three and eighty-one, and gave Kurt a curious look. “Are you feeling quite well, Hummel?” he asked, pushing his glasses further up his nose and peering at Kurt in anxiety.   
  
Kurt stared at him, not entirely sure how to react. “Um, yes, thank you,” he said after a moment of silence in which he could feel the eyes of the rest of the class burning into the back of his skull. “Tired, I guess.”  
  
He nodded and gave him a sympathetic look. “It’s the date, you know,” he informed him matter-of-factly. “It particularly exhausts those who have birthdays on the twenty-fourth of a month.”  
  
Kurt blinked, vaguely weirded out by the fact that Professor Abrams knew when his birthday was and even more unsettled by the fact that his Arithmancy lesson seemed to have turned into a Divination class. “…Okay,” he said, biting down on his lower lip and trying to ignore the fact that everybody was staring at him.  
  
“Would it help if you took a break?” Professor Abrams readjusted his glasses again, wheeling closer to Kurt’s desk and fixing Kurt with a firm look.  
  
Kurt hesitated. “I’m not sure—”  
  
“Okay, okay, off you go,” Professor Abrams said, wheeling himself back to the blackboard and picking up the chalk stub. “Now, we were discussing how seventy-three and eighty-one work together to create an optimum power—can anybody tell me how they work in correlation with one another?” He turned around and blinked at Kurt. “Weren’t you just leaving, Hummel?”  
  
Kurt flushed and pulled his bag onto the desk, shoving his books and papers into it before getting to his feet and fleeing the classroom as quick as he could without tripping over his own feet.  
  
Turning the corner, he nearly walked straight into somebody leaning against the wall. He hastily side-stepped, not looking to see who it was. “Sorry, sorry,” he muttered, hiking his bag further up on his shoulder and ducking his head.  
  
“Wait—Kurt—” a familiar voice said, a warm hand wrapping around his wrist and preventing him from pulling away. Kurt froze, feeling like a bucket of icy water had just been dumped over his head, his breath catching in his throat.  
  
Sebastian quickly dropped Kurt’s wrist, fingers brushing against the back of Kurt’s hand before Kurt flinched away and Sebastian shoved his hands back into the pockets of his robes. “I was hoping to speak to you,” Sebastian said, green eyes earnest.  
  
Kurt’s stomach clenched. “I don’t know if this is quite the right time—”  
  
“It’s never the right time,” Sebastian said sharply, glaring at Kurt. He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the carefully-combed style and causing it to flop over his forehead slightly, giving him a look of vulnerability that made Kurt’s heart skip a beat. Sebastian sighed. “Look. We need to talk.”  
  
Kurt quirked an eyebrow, fixing Sebastian with his most glacial of frigid stares. “I don’t see what there is to talk about, unless it’s how obnoxious your smirking has become.”  
  
Sebastian snorted. “Nice one, Kurt. And here I was thinking that your prissiness came from being too much of a lady, but ladies don’t insult people who’ve done nothing wrong.”  
  
“We have nothing to talk about, Sebastian.” Kurt tightened his grip on his bag-strap and resisted the temptation to look away from Sebastian’s gaze.  
  
Sebastian took a step closer. “What about _everything?_ ”  
  
“I’m perfectly willing to discuss the meaning of life some other time.”   
  
“Ha-ha, very fucking funny.” Sebastian folded his arms, shifting his weight from foot to foot as is he wasn’t sure whether to run or stand his ground. He ducked his head, the movement an odd combination of awkward and elegant, like a cat teetering on the top of a fence. “Look, fuck—what is this, Kurt?”  
  
Kurt paused. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “It’s not something I’ve really thought about.”  
  
He was a fantastic liar when he put his mind to it.  
  
Sebastian frowned at him. “Stop lying.”  
  
Or not.  
  
“I’m not lying,” Kurt said, although even he could hear the way his tone rang false and he knew Sebastian could too. He plunged on—in for one, in for a dozen, right? “I appreciate that you stayed with me in the hospital wing, and maybe you’re not as annoying as I first thought, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re a smirky-faced douchebag who this is all a giant game to.”  
  
Sebastian’s mouth dropped open. He shook his head, taking a step back. He looked as if Kurt had just sucker-punched him in the stomach, his face white, unusually open and expressive. “I can’t believe you, sometimes,” he said, his voice surprisingly ragged. “I can’t believe that you still don’t _get_ it, even after I stayed with you and held your hand and kissed you and—” He cut himself off, inhaling sharply and closing his eyes. “I thought you cared more than that.”  
  
Kurt folded his arms and tried not to wince at the residual ache in his ribs. “You have a reputation, Sebastian,” he said firmly, ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach when he saw Sebastian flinch. “You’ll get bored of me sooner or later, and I won’t have that be the end of my first relationship. It’s better to not even go there.”  
  
“But kissing somebody and then leaving them out to dry is okay?” Sebastian demanded, a familiar spark of anger appearing in his eyes. “You know, most people would at least have the balls to break up with somebody properly—not to mention that most people have an actual _reason._ ”  
  
“I have a reason,” Kurt said, feeling his resistance start to crumble. He kept the image of Karofsky’s leer firmly in his mind. _This is for Sebastian,_ he reminded himself. He swallowed hard and went for the final kill: “And anyway, it’s not breaking up if you were never together in the first place.”  
  
Sebastian stilled, his expression becoming blank and neutral. “Well that clears things up, then.” His voice was tight and measured, and Kurt felt like he was breaking apart at the seams. “Have a nice day.”  
  
Kurt wasn’t sure what to say to that. He just stood there in the corridor and watched as Sebastian walked away from him for the first time.

  
*

  
“You absolute fucking _bitch,_ Hummel.” Santana’s voice cut through the quiet of the library as she stormed over to where Kurt was sitting with a pile of books by a window. Other students looked up in shock and annoyance; the librarian looked verging on apoplexic and got to her feet in protest, brandishing her quill like a sword as she waved it at them.  
  
Kurt eyed Santana warily as she came to a stop in front of him. “What brought this on?”  
  
Santana raised her hand and delivered a stinging slap to his cheek, one which left his ears ringing and his face burning. “What do you fucking _think?_ ” she hissed, hands on hips and cheeks flushed in anger.   
  
Kurt frowned. “If this is about Sebastian—” He flinched back when she made to slap him again. “Santana! Wait a minute.”  
  
She raised her eyebrows, mouth set in a stubborn line that reminded him of Rachel in one of her moods. “You’ve got a minute, Hummel, before I hex you from here to Durmstrang and go all hippogriff on your ass.”  
  
“Sebastian and I aren’t suited to each other, okay?” Kurt said in a rush, feeling his cheeks heat up further when she stared at him incredulously. “We’re always arguing and I’m certain he doesn’t have a clue who Alexander McQueen is—it was only going to end badly.”  
  
“But you like him.” She didn’t sit down. Instead, she put her hands on her hips and scowled.  
  
Kurt glared at her, feeling the urge to squirm in his seat. “What is this, an interrogation?”  
  
“So you do like him.”  
  
“I never said that.”  
  
Santana smirked—and yes, she was definitely Sebastian’s cousin—and raised one carefully-pencilled eyebrow. “What, the sex too hot for you or something?”  
  
Kurt’s cheeks were on fire, he was pretty sure. “Not everything is about sex, I’ll have you know,” he snapped. “What’s wrong with wanting a little bit of romance?”  
  
She stared at him, mouth dropping open slightly, before shaking her head. “If you wanted serenades and flowers then you’d be pining after that Hufflepuff Blanderson, Hummel. That’s not your reason.”  
  
Kurt opened his mouth and then closed it again. “Were you here for a reason or just to yell at me?”  
  
“Just to yell at you,” she said sweetly, pulling up the chair opposite him and dropping into it. “See, my cousin’s like my baby brother, so I don’t take it all too well when some asshole goes and breaks his heart.”  
  
Kurt fingered the spine of his copy of _Numerology and Grammatica,_ not able to meet her eyes. “He doesn’t _have_ a heart,” he said, still not looking up. The cover had a small rip in it at the bottom corner of the spine, he noticed, the cardboard fluffy to the touch.  
  
Santana folded her arms, tossing her hair back from her face with a careless flick of her head. “He has a heart, alright. He just doesn’t usually let people see it, because _this_ is what happens.” Her voice was lower than before but no less intense. “Haven’t you ever been taught that it’s cruel to string people along?”  
  
Kurt looked up, meeting her eyes for the first time. “I didn’t mean to string him along,” he said quietly, trying to imbue his voice with as much sincerity as he could. “It just…happened. I was stupid and thought that we might work out.”   
  
“It just happened,” Santana repeated incredulously. “Breaking somebody’s heart doesn’t just _happen,_ Hummel. What exactly even made you think it wasn’t going to work?”  
  
Kurt frowned. “That’s none of your business. I stopped it before it got too far, didn’t I?”  
  
Santana sighed, folding her hands on her knee and fixing Kurt with an intent look. “Kurt, as far as Sebastian is concerned, it was far enough the first time you ever spoke to him.”   
  
Kurt wasn’t entirely sure what to say to that. He stared at the polished surface of the table and fought the urge to admit everything to this crazy girl. Prefect or not, she was still smaller than Karofsky and he was pretty sure Karofsky wouldn’t baulk at hitting a girl.   
  
She reached out and laid her hand over his, slender fingers cool against the back of his hand. The red nail polish on her fingers was chipped, although her nails were carefully manicured. “Tell me the truth, Kurt. You like him, don’t you?”  
  
“He’s an annoying, obnoxious, smirky-faced meerkat.”   
  
She laughed slightly at that. “I’m with you on that one, and when it comes to Sebastian? That’s equivalent to a confession of love.” She patted his hand before drawing back and getting to her feet. “Just promise me you’ll try to talk to him?”  
  
Kurt chewed on his lower lip, thinking. “I’ll try,” he said after a moment, not even quite sure why he was agreeing but the memory of Sebastian’s white face causing something to clench in his gut and the urge to _fix_ things threatening to choke him.   
  
“Good.” Santana smiled down at him. “I was getting ready to threaten you with some things that could potentially get me in trouble, so I’m glad we reached a nice little agreement.” And with that, she turned and walked away before Kurt could say anything else.


End file.
